We Will Be Together For Never

[23] Sasha's House

 "So?" Sasha's gleeful voice broke into my mixed-up thoughts as I stared at the dress spread out on the bed before me. "What do you think?"

I blinked rapidly for a few seconds, continuing to stare at the outfit and trying to form a polite answer. "It's...it's..." Skanky, a small voice in my head whispered in horror. I ignored it to the best of my abilities.

"It's pretty," I finally forced out. It was pretty, I supposed, if one ignored certain aspects of it. It was bright red- blood colored...appropriate - and had thin, lacy straps leading to a mostly lace back. It also would very obviously display a good deal of my bosom and thighs.

Sasha burst into laughter at my obviously insincere words. "Oh, just try it on," she ordered, still grinning, once she calmed down.

I smiled back, glad that she wasn't offended at my obvious distaste for the outfit. Well, now I feel obligated to try it on. I grabbed the dress, draping it over my arm, and asked, "Where's the bathroom?"

Sasha gestured at the door. "Down the hall and to the right. Hurry up!"

I chuckled and hastened from her bedroom.

In the bathroom, I pulled on the dress without looking in the mirror, feeling strangely nervous at the girl I would see there. Finally, I turned to face the mirror and stared, aghast.

My earlier prediction had been completely correct. The dress pushed up my breasts slightly as well as displaying a good deal of them, and barely covered my butt. I turned a slow circle and then tried to tug down the hem of the dress - in vain. It was the most revealing thing I had ever worn, and I was in no way comfortable with it. It did fit me, however, in that it wasn't too tight.

Knowing exactly how Sasha would react, I walked back to her bedroom as if to my execution.

As soon as I walked through the door, she gasped and then let out a small scream. "Girl!"

I scoffed and rolled my eyes, but couldn't keep the smile off of my face at her enthusiasm. "I don't know...it's a little revealing, don't you think?"

Sasha raised his eyebrows. "You're really not about the party scene, are you?"

I shook my head in confirmation, blushing slightly.

"Trust me, this is perfect. Everyone else will be wearing similar stuff, I promise." Her grin widened as I raised my eyebrows skeptically at her. "I promise!"

I sighed, shrugging. "I believe you, I guess." I couldn't believe I was agreeing to such an outfit. But Roger had told me to enjoy my immortality a little...

Sasha nodded firmly. "You can take it home with you tonight. I think right now we're all planning to meet up at the house, so you won't have another good chance to come get it."

"Oh. Okay." I had been hoping to be able to arrive surrounded by people I was comfortable with, but I didn't let myself voice this thought to Sasha. She probably already thought I was weird enough without having to walk me through everything about this experience.

"I guess I should leave now," I said awkwardly after a second, subconsciously tugging at the hem of my dress and reaching for my phone.

"Wait," Sasha blurted. "Why don't you hang around for a couple of hours?"

I thought for a moment, slowly withdrawing my hand from my bag. "Alright," I finally decided, a slow smile spreading over my face. I couldn't remember the last time I had spent this long in a friend's house.

"I'll go let my parents know," Sasha said, already halfway out of the bedroom. "Make yourself comfortable!"

I nodded, grinning. Suddenly, though, the smile died from my face as I was hit with a memory. I did remember the last time I had hung out with a friend. And the flashback tugged me tightly backward with razor-sharp claws.

Cherry smiled as she opened her front door. "Tamara!" She pulled me into a hug.

"Hey, Cherry. Am I the first one here?" I tried to look past her but couldn't.

"Nope. The last, actually." She shrugged.

I checked my phone. "I'm right on time!" I exclaimed defensively when I saw that it was exactly 6 PM.

Cherry giggled. "I know. The others are excited to lord this above you. Just warning you."

I sighed dramatically. "Of course they are." Replacing my cell in my pocket, I followed one of my three best friends into the house.

Sure enough, Abby and George were already seated on the couch. Abby was sitting cross-legged on one of the armrests with her back to the front door while George was lying down completely with his head resting on the opposite armrest. Abby was trying to land mini marshmallows in his wide open mouth and failing with a screech of laughter from both of them every time.

Abby heard the door close and turned to face us. "She finally decides to show up," she said, drawing out the words. George sat up and shook his head disapprovingly at me, obviously struggling to keep a grin off of his face.

I rolled my eyes but lost my own battle with a grin. "Oh, shut up, Abby."

Abby chuckled and instinctively tossed me the package of mini marshmallows, forgetting to close them beforehand. A graceful arc of marshmallows exploded from the package as it soared through the air.

"Abby!" Cherry screeched.

I managed to catch the bag with what few marshmallows remained within. There was a second of silence before we all exploded into hysterical laughter.

Cherry's mother emerged from the kitchen, spoon in hand. The delicious smell of freshly baked cookies followed her. "What is going on out here?" she exclaimed with humor lining her voice. When she saw the marshmallows covering the floor, she gasped slightly. Our laughter died off nervously.

With a strict expression, the woman strode over to her daughter and lightly bonked her on the head. "Ow!" Cherry exclaimed, although the blow couldn't actually have hurt. "That wasn't me, Mom!"

"You're supposed to keep these nerds in line!" her mother reprimanded her. "Clean this up. I expect you to eat each and every last one of them." She punctuated each word cleanly, placing her hands on her hips.

"They've been on the floor, Mom. That's disgusting," Cherry scoffed, although I knew as a firsthand witness that she had absolutely no trouble with eating "floor food."

"I don't care," her mother replied over her shoulder breezily as she pushed her way back into the kitchen.

"Well, you heard the woman!"  Abby exclaimed. She leaped off of the couch, landing on the floor with a loud thump. "Five-minute rule!"

"You disgusting heathen," Cherry said prissily, shaking her head, as George commented, "I'm pretty sure it's the five-second rule..." I didn't say anything, not able to stop my laughter.

After recovering from the flashback, it felt like I had received a punch squarely in the gut. I found it difficult to get a good breath as tears sprang to my eyes. My hands were clenched into tight fists, fingernails cutting crescents into my palms.

Don't cry, don't cry, do not cry.

Yearning for my best friends hit me in waves, blow after blow of pure agony. I choked back a sob and wiped furiously at my eyes as I heard Sasha returning down the hallway. Someday, I would have to leave her and her friends, too.

Somehow, I managed to put on a mask for the next few hours. We watched comedy movies, which helped, and chatted in the last few minutes as Roger drove over. I had to watch every wor that came out of my mouth.

Every time I found myself holding back something about myself, especially about my past, it was like a knife was being twisted in my gut.

My self-loathing only grew with those hours.